I Do or Die
by Hermione-2113
Summary: Ginny is put under the Imperious curse. What happens? R/r...


I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
  
  
'I Do' or Die  
  
The first thing Ginny noticed, when she woke, was the cold. It was an awful, penetrating chill, that even the heavy blankets that she found draped over her could keep out. She furrowed her brow, trying to remember where she was, how she had come to be here. The very last thing she could remember was a bright flash, and a deep voice, yelling..."Imperio!" Ginny shuddered, more now from fear than cold. After he yelled, there had been a moment of shock and horror, before she was carried away on a wave of bliss, of dreamy unknowing, dimly aware that her body was going on without her. Such, she knew from her Dark Arts lessons, was the wonderful, terrible power of the Imperious curse. But the puzzle remained - who had cast it? Why? And what...she shuddered again. What had she done? Slowly, she forced herself to calm. As she fully woke, and the last trace of the curse seeped from her mind, the memories had begun to flood back.  
  
She watched, as if it were a piece of film, as Lucius Malfoy smirked at her, the Ginny Weasley of a day ago, then lowered his wand. She watched as he strode for the door, then turned and barked a command. 'Ginny' followed him, her dreamy smile firmly in place. As soon as the two had cleared the doorway, Malfoy again drew his wand, this time performing the spell to Apparate. Still lost in her memories, Ginny watched as they dissolved back into existence. ..but in a far different place. This place was dark, pervaded by the same chill that she felt now. Pulling her blankets closer, Ginny continued to sift through the memories. She and Malfoy had walked on through those stony corridors for hours, finally reaching a dead end. Malfoy did not seem disturbed by this, and only rolled up his sleeve. Yesterday, still under the curse, she had seen nothing remarkable, but now Ginny shuddered in horror remembering what that action had revealed...the etched scarlet skull, a cruel serpent twisting from its mouth.  
  
He had tapped his wand on the mark, then to the wall. At once, the stone began to stretch and change, widening into an entranceway. Watching, Ginny was reminded of Diagon Alley, but there was nothing of that cheerful, bustling place in the scene that door revealed to her. Many, many figures, swathed and hidden in robes of dull, black cloth lined the walls, masked faces turned to watch the two that entered the hall. Malfoy paid them no heed and, gripping his captive by the arm, he marched her past the silent watchers, towards the thronelike chair at the head of the cavernous room.  
  
Seated in that chair was a figure, silent and black-robed as the rest, but he wore no mask. The angular white face was clearly visible, as were the eyes that pierced it like black gems. Slowly, the figure rose. As he did, Malfoy dropped to the floor in a subservient bow, followed by the rest of the masked assembly, until only two remained standing, in the whole of that silent room. One, the Ginny of yesterday, said nothing, an unfocused smile sprawled across her face. But, after a moment, the other spoke. "Welcome, Ginny," it intoned, in that voice that was at once alien and familiar. "Or perhaps I should say, welcome back? The slit of a mouth twisted into a smile, and he gestured with a spidery hand. "Rise, Lucius." Malfoy clearly knew what was expected of him, for he stood, twitching his robes back into position as he did, and moved to stand beside the figure, which nodded, almost imperceptibly. Clearing his throat, Malfoy began.  
  
"Do you, Lord Voldemort, take Ginny Weasley to be your wife?"  
  
And that high, cold voice whispered, "I do."  
  
And do you, Ginny Weasley, " he continued relentlessly on, "Take Lord Voldemort to be your husband?"  
  
And as Ginny watched, horrified, desperate to cry out, to protest, to somehow change what had already happened, her past self smiled that dreamy smile and said. ..  
  
"I do."  
  
  
  
Wrenching herself clear of the memories, Ginny lay panting, trying to cope with the enormity of it all. But even as she regained control of herself, she felt a growing awareness. She was not alone. She had never been alone. Unable to stop herself, she turned her head. ..and felt her heart scream.  
  
For watching her, propped on one elbow, eyes glittering in amusement, lay the man some knew as Lord Voldemort, others could only call You-Know-Who, but who Ginny had only ever been able to think of as. ..Tom. 


End file.
